The Dark Side of Life
by Only-Live-Once
Summary: Barty Crouch is back and is pretty happy with his life, especially after that nasty business with dementors. He's about to meet someone that might make him even happier and anything that makes Barty Crouch happy is bad news for everyone else. 1st fic!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. I've never written anything like this before or posted a story on here so please be gentle. I know everyone likes reviews and it can be a pain in the arse giving them but I would really appreciate any feedback you could give and any advice in where I could improve. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! **

**Chapter 1:**

As she approached the sweeping drive Layla Silver was scared. She wasn't a woman that was intimidated easily but, even if it wasn't for the stories the other girls told she would have found this house, no….. mansion, daunting. As the towering gate opened on her approach she could have sworn one of the gargoyles flagging the entrance twitched in her direction, she shrugged it off as her imagination but increased her pace regardless and quickly reached the large oak door. Before Layla could raise her hand to the brass knocker the door swung open to reveal a tall, broad man with striking blonde hair that flowed down his back. The man wore long sweeping black robes and a well practiced sneer as he glared down at the prostitute;

"How did you get in here?"

"I….the gate…..I'm here to see… er… a Mr Crouch."

"Merlin's sake, not again!" Sneered Malfoy as he turned away from Layla back into the house.

"CARROW!" The yell was followed quickly by the sight of a short, overweight man sliding around the corner from the direction of one of the sitting rooms.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy sir?"

"Go and fetch Crouch, another one of his whores is here." Layla had heard too much of this to be offended, if she was honest all her energy was taken up trying not to leg it to take offence anyway.

The tubby Carrow waddled off to the top of the house, he knocked lightly on the door, when there was no answer he rapped loudly and waited.

"What?" Called Bartimus Crouch Junior.

"Your….erm…friend is here to see you Mr Crouch. Mr Malfoy sent me to tell you."

"Bring her in then." Came the hiss.

"She's not…..er…...Mr Malfoy told me to come and get you Sir."

Silence.

"I'll…. erm….. just bring her up then Mr Crouch." Conceded Carrow; as much as he disliked taking orders from anyone but his Master, he didn't want to get on the wrong side of Barty Crouch. His acts of loyalty to the Dark Lord and cruelty to all that opposed him were legendary among the Death Eaters.

Carrow scurried down the three flights of stairs as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him, he really didn't want to get on the wrong side of Crouch or Malfoy if he was honest. He really did associate with some nasty characters in his line of work.

The whore was waiting just inside the door when Carrow descended the last flight. _How the hell does he do it? _Thought the Death Eater as he approached the frightened woman. As he approached, Carrow, non-so subtly, looked Layla up and down, _God Crouch was a lucky son of a bitch, _even for a muggle she still looked good.

"Come" grunted Carrow. Layla followed obediently. _He best be a bloody good tipper…and fit hopefully_, thought Layla as she followed Carrow. _God, I hope he's not related to this fat git._

Carrow led the whore up the final flight of stairs; _maybe Crouch will let me have a go when he's finished with the bitch. _As he approached Barty's door Carrow rapped smartly and left Layla alone, giving her one last longing look as he fled down the stairs.

Layla waited outside the door trying to calm herself. _Come on Layla! You've done this a thousand times, he's just a bloke…but what about Kim and Jess? _Slowly the door creaked open, Layla steeled herself and walked into the room.

The room was dark when she entered but despite that she could just make out the shape of a man sat in a high back chair, long legs crossed, peering over the top of interlaced fingers.

"Hello sweetheart" grinned the man as his tongue flicked out of his mouth.

Layla suddenly felt very small, she would have liked to follow that fat guy after all.

**Let me know if it's worth carrying on!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Layla took her time as she entered the room, it was larger than she expected, in fact it was more like a flat with a bathroom and kitchen by the looks of it leading off to the left and right of the room she had walked in to. The room she and the mysterious man now occupied looked grand and imperial to Layla, it was divided into a living room with a spacious, deep green sofa and matching arm chair facing an open fire place which, cast eerie shadows across the entire room and a bedroom with a magnificent four poster bed. On the bed hung silver drapes held back by green ties, _well it'll certainly be one of the more sophisticated places I'll have shagged _thought Layla with a smile, she was starting to relax and this was helped further when she saw the man sat in a high back chair by the bed.

_Not bad at all, certainly not what I was expecting. _Layla stood still just inside the doorway, the man in the chair hadn't moved, he was just staring at her with hunger in his dark eyes. Layla was impressed, he was much younger than she was expecting and, although most of his face was in shadow, she couldn't help but be drawn in by those eyes. So dark, cold in fact.

"Mr Crouch I presume?" Questioned Layla feigning far more confidence than she felt, her earlier confidence had evaporated after staring the stranger in the eyes. "Nice place you've got here. This your mansion handsome?"

"Stop talking." He didn't shout but the authority in his voice forced Layla to drop her pretend smile. "Shut the door." Layla obeyed.

_Come on you're a professional! _"So gorgeous…..what's on your mind? Anything I can help with?" Smiled the prostitute attempting to regain her composure.

She sauntered over to the still sitting man swaying her hips as she did so. _Not bad actually, well…suppose not bad for a muggle. She better learn to shut the fuck up though or this is going to be over pretty quickly and I will be very disappointed. _Thought Barty as his tongue snaked out again. "I've only got one thing on my mind bitch and you can probably guess what that is."

"Yeah I've got a fairly good idea. You got any particular fetish? Fantasy? I can help you live out? I'm a real good actress and very….flexible."

"The first thing you need to know is you don't speak unless I tell you to. The second; when you're screaming ... the name's Barty. And finally, come here, get on your knees and put my cock in your mouth."

Layla began to relax again, she'd met men like this dozens of times, always wanting to be in control, dominating. Well that was fine by her, if anything it made it easier – lay back and think of the money. Plus it was a relief that all this guy wanted was a blow job if she was honest. After the look in his eyes as she walked in Layla was imagining bondage at the very least.

Layla let her black, knee length coat slide from her shoulders and pool at her feet leaving her in a red lace bra with black trim, matching panties and stockings and black 3 inch heels. She unpinned her raven black hair, letting it flow down her back as she made her way to Barty. He looked like he'd just got up; his dark hair artfully ruffled, still in navy blue, long pyjama bottoms and a striped navy blue and maroon flannel dressing gown. He had nothing on his feet.

Layla took in his appearance as she approached, he looked completely relaxed to her with his right ankle resting on his left thigh and his lightly stubbled chin resting on his interlocked fingers. His eyes though. They told another story, they seemed darker now she was closer, almost black in fact. This man scared Layla, _just do what he wants, take his money and get out. Yep good plan._

In her professional opinion this Barty was a good looking bloke. Slim yes, but from the glimpse she was getting through his partially open dressing gown she could see the ripple of well defined pecs and abs. Layla licked her lower lip slowly as she sank to her knees in front of him.

Barty lowered his right leg as the whore knelt before him, each leg either side of her now. He smiled to himself as his tongue flicked and he felt his groin twitch. He really did like to see a woman on their knees, that sense of power he loved at seeing people at his mercy. Not that he ever showed mercy. Barty's tongue flicked again in anticipation as Layla reached up and tugged the dressing gown open, further revealing that well defined, slightly hairy chest and stomach. She rose from her knees a fraction bracing her hands on the arms of the chair to plant open mouthed kisses across his collarbone, down his chest to his navel. She chanced a glance to see his reaction; none. _Mmm…tough customer eh?_

Barty stared down at the top of her head running a hand over her dark locks. He was never a sexual being but since his enforced incarceration in Azkaban and then his voluntary one as _that_ _ugly bastard _Moody, he had found a new appreciation for the female form. If he was honest it wasn't even the sex that was the biggest turn on, he loved to control, to dominate and …well…if that coincided with getting laid then all the better for him. He was dragged back from his thoughts as he felt her nimble fingers pull at the waist band of his bottoms, he lifted his hips to allow her to slide them past his hips and down to his ankles. She looked him in the eyes for a heartbeat before lowering her head once more and drawing her tongue up the length of his rapidly hardening penis. Layla did this again before placing a hand on his firm stomach and running her tongue over the underside of his balls. She felt his stomach tighten under her fingers and smiled as she took one in her mouth, sucking gently. She let her free hand stroke his cock until it was long and hard, all the while not withdrawing her lips from him. She looked up at him through heavy lids to find Barty absorbed in the show between his legs, Layla felt a thrill up her spine at the intensity of his stare.

Barty could feel his body tighten in anticipation; _she was good; much better than those two sluts yesterday._ He let his tongue flick rapidly as he let out a breath and allowed his eyes to close. Barty savoured the feeling of tranquillity take over him, no thoughts of murder, torture or dementors flooding his mind.

His eyes snapped open as the well practiced prostitute relaxed her throat and took him whole. He looked down as her eyes began to water and he couldn't help but thrust his hips forward. Layla choked as she pulled back, her lips still in contact with the head of his length. _Bastard._ Barty smirked down at her as his head flopped backwards on to the chair and Layla took up a torturous rhythm, sliding her swollen lips back and forth. Her rhythm increased as she felt the man before her tighten, she gently tugged on his balls keeping her pace. His stomach as was contracting and relaxing beneath Layla's palm as she felt him flood her mouth, he offered no warning and the surprise forced her eyes open. He was watching her again.

Barty grabbed the side of her head roughly, preventing her from releasing his slick cock. She had no choice but to swallow his cum, which she did before he allowed her to move away from him. Layla pushed away from him and sat catching her breath on the carpeted floor. Barty simply stared down at her with a slight smirk gracing his lips. "Thanks darling, not bad at all."

"Can…can I have a glass of water please?" Croaked Layla, still sprawled before him.

Faster than she could think he was on his feet and baring down on her, teeth exposed in a snarl. Before she could register his anger his hand was at her throat dragging her to her feet. He slammed her to the bed still gripping her throat in a strong hand. "I don't like repeating myself whore! Do not speak." Again, he didn't shout. It was the menace in his voice that frightened Layla as she gave a small nod to show her understanding.

Barty left Layla laying on his bed as he swaggered to the bathroom.

_This guy is bad fucking news. I need to get out of here quickly. _She pulled herself shakily to her knees, crawled from the bed and staggered as quickly as she could to the door only to find it locked.

"Lie down" Layla jumped at Barty's sudden reappearance. She didn't even think to defy him as she climbed back onto the bed. "Put your hands above your head." She obeyed. As soon as her hands connected with the headboard she felt the cold of metal slide around her wrists, she tried to pull away but the chains only tightened. She was trembling now, Barty could see it and it turned him on. He stalked to the bed like a wild animal and Layla had the distinct impression she was dinner. He shed his dressing gown and Layla was surprised to see he had put on a pair of black boxer shorts.

Layla stiffened as Barty crawled up her body, stopping when they were nose to nose. "Relax darling" he muttered in a low voice as his tongue traced the shell of her ear, despite herself she shuddered at his touch and felt her body betray her with the heat pooling between her legs. _He's a fucking psycho, get a hold of yourself! _Barty smirked to himself as he felt her quiver beneath him. He let his fingers glide down her body, between her breasts, across her ribs with surprising lightness. When his fingers met the barrier of her panties he lost control for a second, ripping the material from her body. Layla cried out in shock and slight pain as material pulled against her skin before tearing. 

"Much better" Barty whispered into her ear before plunging two fingers into her heat, Layla arched her back in pleasure and surprise at the sudden assault. "Mmm…so wet, warm. I think you want me." Layla's response died in her throat as he circled his thumb around her clit in rhythm to the slow thrusts of his fingers and all she could do was moan softly. He kept up the torturous pace until the prostitute moaned out a plea for him to go faster. "Please…faster, please Barty." Barty smiled into her ear as he added a finger and increased his pace. She was matching his ministrations with her hips now in a bid to gain more friction. As he felt her body tighten in pleasure he removed his fingers quickly dragging a whimper from Layla's lips. He did this three more times, each time bringing her closer to her release until she was straining against her bonds and begging him to let her cum. After the forth time of bringing her to the edge he pulled away completely and removed his now snug boxers. He flipped her over so her hands were crossed and still bound to the headboard. He forced her on to her knees and positioned himself at her entrance, thrusting into her and drawing a scream of pleasure and pain from Layla. Barty allowed himself a moment to accommodate himself with the tight space before he pulled out and crashed his hips into her arse with abandon. Layla was forced to brace herself against the headboard as Barty pounded into her over and over again, each thrust deliciously painful but just off the mark as far as she was concerned. She tried to shift her position to gain more friction but Barty grabbed her hips painfully to prevent her from moving. As he felt himself coil Barty seized a handful of Layla's hair and pulled her head back roughly so she was looking at the ceiling as he emptied his load into her for the second time that morning. He rode out his orgasm, grinding his hips into her before collapsing on top of his purchase. Layla was silently crying as she felt the heavy weight on top of her, her wrists and vagina were raw and aching, all she wanted to do was sleep. Eventually she felt him push himself off her and enter the bathroom, a rush of air across her wrists alerted her to her freedom. _How did he do that? _ Layla managed to think in her dazed state.

"What are you doing? Go on, fuck off." Questioned Barty as re re-entered the room.

Layla just laid there exhausted and broken. "My…er…could you…I mean. I mean I need paying Mr Crouch." The prostitute muttered the last sentence in a rush, forcing herself to say it before she lost her nerve.

Barty smiled, a full smile but one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Layla didn't see the shadow that passed over the Death Eater's face as he smiled; she was too busy trying to retrieve her torn underwear and throw on her coat as quickly as possible. She turned around to see Barty take a thin stick from the table beside his bed.

"I don't think you heard me whore. Fuck. Off." His tongue flicking rapidly to the corner of his mouth.

Layla stood still for a moment trying to work this man out. His deep eyes gave nothing away but Layla was in no doubt he was capable of murder. After the way he'd treated her she was in no doubt at all. _But the house is full of people._

"HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE!"

Barty's smile grew, showing his teeth. Oh, _I do like it when they scream._

Layla just had time to register her latest lover raising the thin stick before she hit the ground. An evil grin illuminated green was the last thing Layla Silver ever saw.

Barty smirked down at the still naked prostitute, he really was going to have to stop doing this or he was going to have to use another agency. He flicked his wand at the former prostitute clearing up as he headed for a shower, he felt dirty.


End file.
